Well I Wonder
by papiersam
Summary: On a miserable Valentine's Day, Yukiko finds herself chasing trains, sharing bentos, and talking it out, courtesy of Naoto's poor social skills. Three-shot. Complete.
1. But I'll Never Know

Chapter One: But I'll Never Know

* * *

Yukiko locks her fingers around the fence's chains and watches the rest of the world continue on without her.

Valentine's Day is a day for heartbreak, Yukiko decides then; that was the rule, and Ebihara – or, more importantly, Souji – is the exception.

She leans her forehead against the cold metal and can feel the rough edges through her bangs, but neglects to move because she just wants sleep this feeling away as soon as she can.

It doesn't work, though: there's an easy breeze and Yukiko can't sleep unless she's wrapped tight under a few blankets, let alone when she's standing on a hill in her school uniform, her jacket left behind.

Instead she sighs, long and slow and reedy, and opens her eyes but doesn't really see anything at all.

She's so lost inside her head – she feels like she's at the bottom of a frigid, dark ocean – that when she hears a voice coming from right beside her, she can't remember exactly what she was thinking at all.

She looks to the side blankly, but doesn't say anything. Naoto, looking unreadably stoic as always, waits a moment before saying, "Amagi-san?"

Yukiko, in turn, answers back after a pause. "Naoto-kun." And she doesn't think to say anything else, because at the moment, she can't remember ever having a conversation with Naoto.

"You – are – " she hesitates, then goes from evasive to frank. "You didn't answer me the first three times."

"Sorry. I didn't hear you," Yukiko apologises, and she wonders if her voice sounds thin to Naoto as well.

Naoto's face betrays nothing, as usual. "Well, I've – I'm here. On Yosuke-senpai's directive."

Some part of Yukiko wonders if Yosuke is trying to help her somehow, but the notion brings more trouble than aid: how does Yosuke know, what does he think, and why send Naoto instead of Chie?

Suddenly Yukiko desperately wishes Chie came instead.

"What did he say?"

When Naoto doesn't answer – just _watches_ her – Yukiko starts to ask again before Naoto speaks. "He said you asked to see me. For the – ah, the chocolate?"

The way Naoto asks it more than says it tells Yukiko that she's equally lost, and right now just isn't a good time to be putting up with Yosuke's jokes.

Somehow, Yukiko knows she won't joking around for a long time.

As she tries to tell Naoto as kindly as possible to just _please leave me alone, I just want to be alone_ , Naoto speaks at the same time: "Not that I come expecting any, it's just – ah, I didn't mean to cut you off."

"No, please," Yukiko insists despite herself.

"After you, I – "

" _Please._ "

Naoto hesitates. "I hadn't planned to come, but Yosuke-senpai said you asked anyone who didn't receive chocolate from you to come see you, and I didn't want to offend your kind gift."

Well, that backfired twice – trying to give Souji his chocolate _alone_ – and Yukiko feels mostly embarrassed by it now.

She looks back through the fence links. "I'm – sorry, I didn't mean – "

"No matter," Naoto says as if it's just a missing pen, but maybe she's just saving Yukiko the excuse. "I'll be on my way, then."

She pauses, and Yukiko sees her nod from the corner of her sight before walking off, the crisp crunch of dry grass underfoot.

And Yukiko is alone again, but the feeling of it never left her. She stays like that, and can't say for how long when each moment feels like it doesn't ever end.

Then something warm and heavy falls on her shoulders, and Yukiko jerks away and throws her back to the cold fence. Naoto stands in front of her, hands held up and fingers curling, and her jacket is crumpled on the ground between them.

"You weren't answering me again," Naoto says, sounding at the same time upfront and childishly caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "And you looked cold."

It takes Yukiko a bit to connect the dots – because since when does Shirogane Naoto offer her coat to anyone? – but when she does, she steels herself thinking it's a personal problem she'd rather suffer alone.

"Thank you, but I'm fine," she says, sounding detached to herself but she hopes she doesn't sound as cold as she feels.

Naoto looks like she wants to say something, but she stays quiet and picks up her coat instead, dusting it off. Yukiko's good upbringing tells her she should have done that, and it's enough to push her out of her wallowing to say, "I'm sorry, Naoto-kun. I – I _was_ cold."

It's not a lie, the growing bitter part of Yukiko thinks, and anyway, Naoto prides herself on being _right_ on her deductions.

Naoto, none the wiser for once, holds her jacket out. "Not a problem. Here: you'll catch a cold standing out here."

Yukiko, trapped between a jacket and a hard fence, resolves to the fact that she can't stay stumbling through her sadness and expect it to get better.

Although, at this point, she doesn't expect it will ever get better.

So Yukiko takes Naoto's jacket and wraps herself in it like it's a child's blanket: it's almost too small, but there's comfort in its softness and its sentiment.

"Thank you," she whispers, and pulls back against the fence.

Naoto nods, slowly and distracted, because she's busy watching – _observing_ – Yukiko. Silence settles between them, and Yukiko nestles deeper into the jacket until she's breathing the subtle scent of cologne.

Naoto begins to speak when Yukiko does – they can't seem to stop that – and just bows her head to let Yukiko resume.

"It's – this," she sniffles, and she feels like she's crying. "Why cologne?"

Naoto's eyebrow's shoot up the way they do when someone calls her out on a secret, and mumbles before pursing her lips.

Yukiko prompts her on; anything's better than stewing away in her own head. "Hmm?"

"Aftershave."

"Aren't they the same?"

"No," Naoto says at once, sounding defensive. "Aftershave is a formulation – " But she stops, puts her hand on her hip, and switches into a tone of voice that's better at simple explanations. "Aftershave is beneficial for the skin. It contains Aloe Vera, and very little perfume."

Yukiko nods, and remembers her father's distaste for strong fragrances. She then wonders if Souji's ever liked cologne.

"Is that why your skin is so soft?" Yukiko asks instead of getting lost in her circle of thoughts again.

"No – well, perhaps. It," Naoto waves her hand in a circle. "It helped with the illusion."

 _Of being a boy_. A lot of thoughts come with that one: boys were stronger, better at hiding their emotions, better at breaking hearts.

"Rise-chan would love to know that," Yukiko mumbles, and it's getting harder to talk about things that don't hurt her to think of. "She always wanted to know why you never get acne."

"Refrain from mentioning it," Naoto grumbles, and says nothing more about it.

It leaves them both quiet again, and Yukiko thinks that's the worst part: even when she's with other people, she feels pressingly alone.

Yukiko looks out at the distance to her right: a grassy hill rolling out to the sparse town she's so familiar with. She feels like a stranger to it, and her old longing to escape it comes back over her like an overcast.

The person who helped her find peace with that is the one she's not with.

"I'll have to keep repeating myself, won't I?"

Yukiko looks back at Naoto, who doesn't seem at all perturbed; instead, there's a vacant look in her eyes, and Yukiko doesn't know what it means.

 _But he has this mysterious air around him that draws your attention_ , Yukiko hears herself saying, but it was all wrong anyway: Naoto is neither a _he_ nor _mysterious,_ but she _is_ staring Yukiko down.

Then, almost too quick for Yukiko to catch, Naoto's expression looks just like it did when she turned down the Team – for 'mulling things over' the first day they attend school together – before going impassive again.

"Well, I should take my leave," she says, tugging at the bill of her hat. "Until tomorrow."

"Bye," Yukiko whispers, but Naoto doesn't do more than drop her hand and turn around. Before Yukiko can decide if she wants to be left alone in the end, Naoto looks back over her shoulder.

She pauses, then – as if she's giving in – says, "It doesn't take a detective to know you're…not okay."

Yukiko only half-shrugs.

Naoto turns only halfway. "But I suppose it would take a friend to help you…Did you want me to call Satonaka-san?"

If she's honest, hearing about Chie makes Yukiko want to be so alone that the world forgets her. And anyway, either Naoto's shirking the responsibility or she's still under the impression that after struggling to the end of the town's biggest murder case, they're still not friends.

But then, crazy murder cases and life-threatening sorts of things are commonplace for Naoto, aren't they?

"You can call her from my phone if you forgot yours in your jacket at school." Naoto holds her phone out to Yukiko – a large, not flip-phone kind of phone that leaves a business-like impression. "But I'll have to confess, I don't have her number."

"No thank you, Naoto-kun, please – "

"I could go and seek her out if you'd rather – "

"Naoto, I want to be alone," Yukiko bites out, sounding pitchy to her own ears. " _Please_."

Without another word, Naoto slips her phone into her back pocket, and crosses her arms. And Yukiko hopes that's the end of the conversation, that Naoto will leave and she'll be alone again until she can pull herself together enough to go home and pretend everything's okay.

But Naoto seems to have a habit of doing hasty things to prove a point – like getting kidnapped by a murderer at large – and now lets out a deep breath and looks sidelong at the arcing sun.

"The afternoon trains should be leaving soon. We could…catch one," Naoto suggests like they're going to catch a movie run before the ads finish.

Running away from the things that trap her in is something Yukiko has learned to overcome, but old habits die hard, Souji is running around with other people anyway, and frankly, Naoto's being so aggressively friendly it's difficult.

"What time does the bus leave?" Yukiko asks wearily, slipping her arms into Naoto's coat and closing the distance between them.

Naoto, as she starts walking at Yukiko's side, shakes her head and mumbles under her breath. "I say jump, you ask how high."

* * *

It's not that Yukiko's expecting to be blown into a whirlwind adventure of chasing trains and finding ancient secret that show her a new perspective on life – not even before she chose to stay with the inn – but she is less than satisfied with the weedy conversation that leads them to the train station without event.

She even hoped that maybe Naoto would decide she has better things to do with her time than to humour a trip uptown with a sad girl.

Instead, Yukiko finds herself staring down the back of Naoto's hat, wishing she'd kept her head on and stayed grieving on the hilltop.

"We could visit the Ueno Prairies," Naoto suggests. Yukiko half expects her to ask if they should get fries with that, too.

Chie would.

Chie would also know enough things to talk about to keep them both busy, maybe even laughing.

Yukiko isn't ungrateful; she's miserable and trying not to be, but she's not ungrateful. Equally, Naoto's not as much as a friend as she is a friend of a friend.

"We could visit the Ueno Prairies," Naoto says again, as if she hadn't said it the first time.

Yukiko shrugs; she doesn't know a lot of places outside of Inaba except for big cities that are too far and far too busy. "We could just go to Osaka."

Naoto purses her lips into a tight frown. "There wouldn't be a point in taking the train there, even if there was a station. You should take the chance to go somewhere far."

 _You_ , Yukiko hears. Because Naoto's been to so many cities – maybe even out of the country – and a big-city girl like her doesn't need to be soothed by simple sights.

But then, Yukiko doesn't _know_ if Naoto's from the city. She could be from Sapporo, or Shibuya, or even Inaba-born by some twist of fate.

"Maybe we could go to your home or something," Yukiko says, and she thinks it's the longest sentence she's said to Naoto all day, if not all year.

Naoto looks away from the listings. "You mean my residence here, or the estate?"

"No – " It feels weird to be asking Naoto anything personal, Yukiko reflects. " – where you were born."

"Ah. I wasn't born anywhere a simple train could take us," Naoto replies, looking almost amused.

It takes Yukiko a moment to remember that Naoto won't share much if she isn't asked to. "Were you born in another country, then? Hong Kong?"

"No." Naoto shakes her head. She hesitates and looks away. "I was actually born in France. In Paris, like my mother."

That comes as beyond a surprise to Yukiko; the things Naoto chooses _not_ to share. "Paris? Really?"

Naoto hums a short laugh. She still hasn't looked back, but the way she's looking out at the shy – in a very un-Naoto fashion, eyes looking _unfocused_ – gives Yukiko the impression that Naoto wasn't entirely in the conversation.

"Yes, really. She – my mother – was actually native French, for generations."

For a moment, Yukiko is more fascinated than sad. "So you're French too, then? Can you speak it?"

Naoto's pulled away from her reverie by the question. "Well, half. My father – the Shiroganes have all been purely Japan-born and raised. He spoke Japanese, and my mother spoke French, but both knew enough English to – " she shrugs " – know each other better."

Yukiko nods, picturing two vastly different strangers speaking foreign, broken words under the Eifel Tower. The thought should have made her laugh.

"I don't remember more than a few words now, but I've been told that, as a child, I was always speaking between the three tongues interchangeably. But when my grandfather took me in…"

Yukiko expects Naoto to stay quiet after that, and wouldn't have minded it if she did.

Instead, Naoto shrugs, and looks back at Yukiko with those analyzing eyes. "He never quite approved of the same things my father did."

She doesn't know what to process first: _what_ Naoto said, or the fact _that_ she said it. Because Yukiko doesn't know if she's ever heard anything nearly so personal from Naoto, and she doubts most people have either.

She doesn't mean to tell Naoto this, but she does: "You've never told me anything about yourself."

Naoto makes a face. "I suppose…I'm not very accustomed to sharing personal information; I usually work strictly business." A fact that shows when her idea of helping Yukiko is dragging her out of town aimlessly. "As it would seem, you've a way with making me share these stories."

Yukiko disagrees. "Oh?"

"At Club Escapade, during the school trip." Naoto says it like Yukiko should know. She doesn't. "When-when you asked me for an…a story? During the… _game_?"

Yukiko's drawing a blank, as she always does concerning the night at the club. "I don't remember much from it. I fell asleep so quick, remember?"

A moment of silently blinking, and Naoto simply chirps, "Very well."

Before Yukiko can ask what she asked before, Naoto speaks up – they're talking over each other again, and Yukiko lets Naoto continue. "We'll miss all the trains at this rate. If I may, I propose we take – "

A train whistle rings, and doors close loudly nearby.

" – that one?"

And then Yukiko feels a profound, shared moment occur between them: both she and Naoto watch a worker ensure no one is standing too close to the platform's rim as the train ever so slowly begins to depart.

She thinks they have the same thing on their minds, and that they mutually choose to shut it down because it's silly. Chasing after the train is silly. Now they have an excuse to call it a day, go their separate ways, and Yukiko can sit at home and work until she forgets herself.

But then they look at each other, then back at the train, and then they're trying not to look back at one another.

As they've made a habit of lately, they speak over each other.

"Let's run after it," Yukiko says, because she wants to get away.

"Should we run?" Naoto asks, and Yukiko knows it's because she's uncertain of everything.

And before they've decided anything, Yukiko runs into the sharp winter air. Everything around her – the small town, the people in it – blurs as it falls behind, and the train pulls away from the landing.

But right now, everything is in motion, and Yukiko is wants to be done with letting things get away from her. She makes it to the edge and grabs at the railing of the back observation deck, but her fingers slip off the metal and sting from the impact.

She stops running – or else risks falling over the tracks – just as she sees Naoto zip past her like a bullet and, in one fluid motion, lunge.

It's an astounding image, Yukiko reflects, watching Naoto clutch her hat down on her head with one hand and soar airborne with her legs curling.

Astounding still is when the train continues on, faster now, and Naoto only reaches the railing on the closing arc of her jump, hitting it mid-body and tumbling onto the deck with the grace of a dead duck.

As she launches into a run again, Yukiko opts not to tell Naoto that, if she _were_ a boy, she'd be wishing she wasn't right then.

The train's picking up speed, and Yukiko doubts she can make it – Naoto seems out of commission for the time being – but she's not ready for things to go wrong again, and she doesn't even want to be in the same _town_ as Souji right now.

Yukiko grabs the railing, still running, and grips tighter despite how cold it is before springing up and landing her flats in the spaces between the rail posts.

With that, she's on the train going anywhere.

Yukiko takes a few easy, panting breaths, and watches the Yasoinaba Station shrink in the distance. The wind bites at her face while she feels her fingers numbing from the cold, and for someone who wields fire by TV day and sleeps under the kotatsu with an extra blanket by night, it's the first sign of change.

She draws herself over the railing, mindful of her skirt, and approaches Naoto, who is just starting to uncurl herself and is still dusted red in the face.

She rolls her head over and looks at Yukiko with hazy eyes. "I deduce that I am in excruciating pain as a result of breaking most my bones."

Yukiko giggles – she's not laughing yet – and offers Naoto a hand. "We made it."

Naoto hovers her hand up a bit, then drops it like dead weight. "There's still a long way to go."

Yukiko knows that – someone might ask for tickets they don't have, and their still speeding off to a destination they don't know – but for now, she smiles wryly. "It gives you time to tell me about your parents. How they met, how they made it – everything. It sounds like a movie."

"Regretfully, I don't know everything," Naoto mutters, and it's almost eaten by the wind. "As soon as I recover, I can share what I _do_ know."

That's fine, Yukiko thinks as hushing winds envelop them. Because when the heartache never goes away, she can tell it's going to be a long day, every day.

Buttoning Naoto's coat and dipping her nose into the high collar, Yukiko leans her shoulder against the rails, locks her fingers around posts, and watches the rest of the world continue on without her.

* * *

 _A/N: Part 1 of 2, if you will. But tell me, how's part 1 looking, reader?_


	2. And That's The Way Life Goes

Chapter Two: And That's The Way Life Goes

* * *

When Naoto offers Yukiko to sit first, she does, so she can take the seat by the window and stare out it for - well, maybe the rest of her life.

Naoto, for her part, recovered quickly enough, though now she drops herself into her seat fast and winces well after.

The train is emptier than Yukiko expects: most seats are unoccupied, and the ones that aren't carry only one person.

It's a lonely sight, but then today the ones who aren't lonely wouldn't be running out of town.

"Where does this train go?" Yukiko asks Naoto, still surveying their surroundings.

"I haven't – tch – " she shifts and grimaces " – I haven't the foggiest. We didn't quite get the chance to check."

Yukiko hums, then looks out the window feeling sleepy.

She should have seen it.

Maybe she did; Yukiko realises she's not the most observant – that would go to the person sitting beside her – but maybe she knew all along, somewhere not so deep down, that Souji-kun doesn't feel the way about her that she does about him.

What she felt, exactly, is complicated: she thinks it could be love, but she doesn't have much to go by. Her parents had an arranged marriage, and they seem happy enough; she doesn't watch much television, and the movies she goes to with Chie focus on fighting, maybe at best with an undeveloped romantic aspect.

But, her inner fire argues, it makes it that much more certain that it's _love_ she feels when she isn't building it on someone else's image of it.

She thinks the drive to cook better to impress him – or just to have him taste her cooking at all – must be something. That fighting by his side through thick and thin must be something. That the way her heart races and the words become so easy and too hard when he's standing _right there_ must be something.

And it did; it's something – more than just something – to Yukiko, and, it seems, less than that to Souji.

That leaves Yukiko with it all, and without anyone to share it with. And she thinks that these things – feelings – are things meant to be shared.

"You should at least eat a bit," Yukiko hears Naoto say, and it sounds miles away.

She pulls herself out of her thoughts and away from the window, and feels her elbow push against something warm.

"Ack – " Naoto flinches, pulling a black plastic box away from Yukiko's arm. After Yukiko folds her hands into her lap, Naoto holds out a pair of chopsticks to her. "Please?"

Yukiko tentatively takes the chopsticks, and looks at the bento box held out to her – filled with rice, pickled vegetables, and a chunk of grilled salmon on top. "What's this?"

"Food," Naoto answers simply, picking up her own pair of chopsticks. "The lady came by, but you seemed…preoccupied, so I ordered something to eat." She pokes at the rice a bit. "These bentos are quite large, and I know I wouldn't be able to finish one myself, so I thought…we could share?"

Naoto says that part meekly, and Yukiko can't help but smile a bit. "Oh, I don't mind at all. I'm not very hungry now myself, either."

Naoto nods, then says, "After you."

Shuffling the rice a bit with her chopsticks, Yukiko thinks to say "Itadakimasu", but can't decide if Naoto would take it as stiff or too formal. Instead, before she eats, she says, "Thank you, Naoto-kun."

It tastes good, Yukiko thinks once she digs in: she prefers sharper flavours, and the pickled peppers are just that. She also taste – "Beef?"

Naoto swallows and covers her mouth before she speaks. "I hope it's to your taste. You wouldn't – didn't answer me when I asked."

"Sorry," Yukiko says, and she wonders how long she was lost in thought for. Still, beef is more expensive, and maybe Naoto can afford to spend like that. "You shouldn't have, though. Anything would've been fine."

"I thought you may as well eat something different than usual."

"I always have beef with Chie."

Naoto pauses, morsel lumped in her chopsticks. She drops it back in defeat. "I…didn't consider that."

"Oh – no, it's all right, really!" Yukiko says quickly – she's sad herself but doesn't mean to make anyone else so. "It's great! I wish I could cook like this myself."

Naoto peeks at Yukiko from under her hat, then stares back at the bento. "I'm certain you can cook far better than this."

Yukiko perks at that; she's never heard it before. "Really?"

"Yes," Naoto says, and she's pushing the rice around. "Regardless of what I've been told, I see you as someone who has a very refined palate."

And now Yukiko's smiling wider than she thought she could after today, and she's about to offer to cook Naoto something – but then she hears herself say the words to Souji, and she doesn't want to share them with anyone else, so instead she says, "Thanks."

Then there's unsettling silence, because they both seem like they're out of things to say. Yukiko goes back to the window, only looking back when she's taking a bite, and she thinks maybe Naoto's stopped eating.

But she doesn't want to go radio silent on Naoto again, so she grabs at their last conversation and decides to say, "What sort of food do _you_ like?"

It looks like Naoto wasn't expecting the conversation to pick up, so she raises her eyebrows and pauses before answering. "Well – I'm not picky." Then she pauses again, scrunches her brow in thought, and adds more as though she thinks she's expected to: "I usually eat out, so I enjoy home-cooking like a delicacy."

It makes sense, Yukiko realises: Naoto must not have much time to cook for herself, and maybe there aren't many people to cook for her.

Naoto must feel lonely most of the time, then; Yukiko imagines Naoto feeling the way she feels now, but every day. It's soul-crushing, very fast.

"Do you miss your mom's cooking?" Yukiko asks softly, and she doesn't know if she should be asking at all.

Naoto shakes her head, but barely moves. "I don't remember it very much, but – " she hesitates, and smiles just a little " – somehow, I vividly remember her baking. Fluffy, sugary French sweets. She loved baking, did so all the time."

There's a pause, and Yukiko can see Naoto's eyes glass over as they watch a memory like a nostalgic film.

Then, in a quiet voice, Naoto adds, "I haven't had anything baked in so long."

Yukiko remembers the banana bread one of the inn's chef prepared for her lunch earlier today. "Kanji-kun's a really good baker. He would love to make you something."

Naoto shrugs, but she's staring still at something far off and isn't exactly there anymore. She's lost in her reminiscence, and probably looks like Yukiko did just a while ago.

As much as Yukiko wants to leave her be for a bit, she knows how easy it is to fall inside yourself. She touches Naoto's shoulder softly. "You said you'd tell me about how your mom and dad met."

Like being pulled out of a dream, Naoto blinks, and her eyes focus on Yukiko's hand, then on Yukiko herself. Then, maybe by habit, all the sadness in her eyes is gone, and her face hides all emotion.

"I suppose I did," she says then, like business.

If years of loneliness can condition you to push everything under the surface, Yukiko decides she never wants to end up that way.

Yukiko slid her hand away from Naoto and takes the bento out of her hands – they seemed done with eating anyway. "Anything is fine."

"I'll share what I know. Their old friends used to tell me a lot about them, perhaps so I wouldn't forget." Naoto shrugs then. "But that was many years ago."

Yukiko distantly notes how upright Naoto sits, and takes solace in knowing they've both been raised with perfect posture

"Well, do you remember where they met?"

"Paris," Naoto says. "My father was there to catch a suspect, actually. They told me – " she touches the brim of her hat, and looked self-conscious " – well, I assume they exaggerated, but they would tell me that the moment he walked past her – outside a café – he immediately stole flowers from a man nearby and gave them to her."

"Aww," Yukiko purrs, and when she pictures the scene in her mind, she sees a jollier, taller Naoto punch a well-dressed man in the jaw and wrench flowers out of his hand, then hand them over to an unsuspecting, snow-skinned blonde woman drinking coffee.

"I suppose there's an irony in a detective committing a theft to flatter a woman," Naoto says, smiling just a bit.

"It's romantic," Yukiko suggests, even if she isn't sure.

"…You would know better than I," Naoto says. "However their chance encounter started, it ended badly."

"Oh?"

"She was meeting with someone else at the time."

"Oh."

"And when he couldn't understand her telling him that in French, she slapped him to ensure the point meaning conveyed."

"Oh!"

"Indeed," Naoto agrees. "But," she continues, in a tired tone, "My father was persistent, as detectives are."

"So I've noticed," Yukiko mutters under her breath, but Naoto doesn't seem to hear.

In fact, Yukiko reflects, Naoto seems contently invested in the story.

"I was told he put his casework off to pursue her; frequenting her favourite café, befriending her friends – he was a very charming man, see – and complimenting her every time they saw each other." Naoto shakes her head lightly. "He couldn't learn French fast enough, and his English was better and more formal than hers, so I assume it never quite did the job."

Yukiko wonders what she would do with someone who was so adamant on her – or if she could be driven to do as much. "He sounds quite love-struck."

"He hardly knew her at best," Naoto mutters, sounding almost accusing. "I can't imagine what could have possessed him so. It's ridiculous, really."

Well, Yukiko has much more history with Souji than Naoto's parents with each other, and ended up with less.

"At one point – and I'm not certain how correct this is – my father had a piano placed in front of her residence one evening and played her favourite songs until almost dawn." This time, Naoto hummed a laugh, then added, "He acquired a lot of information from my mother's friends, and he was classically trained on piano. She just happened to love the piano more than she did baking."

Yukiko doesn't say it, but for not hearing about it for years, Naoto seems to remember most things. It comes with being a detective, maybe.

"Anyway, my mother eventually called the police on him – rightfully so, I might add – but some of them recognized him as a Shirogane, and they helped him even more."

On that, Naoto scoffs just slightly, and Yukiko can't help but think that maybe she's _jealous_ of how much respect her father got from the authorities that would only put her down.

Or maybe Naoto just feels like she's failed to live up to her name that way.

"Then what happened?" Yukiko asks.

Naoto composes herself visibly: sits straighter, and folds her legs over. "My grandfather hears that my father was shirking his responsibilities, for a foreign woman no less." Naoto smiles wryly. "As expected, he was furious."

Yukiko gets the impression that Naoto's grandfather is stiffer than she is, and that Naoto may not have always been that way. Still, Yukiko can't remove the image of a stony-faced kid Naoto from her mind.

"From there, it goes as expected: Grandfather sets my father straight, forbids he meet my mother again, and my father rebels in secret."

"Wow." Yukiko's having trouble reconciling her image of Naoto and this enchanting, daunting man that is – was – her dad.

Naoto purses her mouth into a thin frown. "It's childishly rash, honestly: he put his livelihood and heritage on the line for someone who didn't want him."

Yukiko wants to argue that it worked out in the end, but she figures they'll get there soon enough. "Does your grandpa ever find out?"

"Of course: he's no fool, and I would think, more than that, he knows his own son."

It's striking to hear that from Naoto; Yukiko wonders if her own mother could guess she would jump a train with a barely-friend in the wake of a heartbreak. "What does he do?"

Naoto hesitates to answer. When she does, she does so with that tired voice. "Grandfather cancels my father's ticket and withholds all accounts, effectively stranding my father. One of my father's closer friends said my father hadn't ever been very good with saving money, so…"

Yukiko starts to think overdramatic responses runs in Naoto's bloodline, as well as tenacity – and good-looks, it would seem.

"This is a roller coaster ride," Yukiko sighs.

"Quite," Naoto agrees. "I suppose you can deduce what happens next."

"Go on," Yukiko prods, because it's far more distracting listening to Naoto speak.

"If I must…well, my father isn't one to give up, so he takes up a job as a piano player at a restaurant – he apparently wins over the owner very quickly."

It doesn't take much time for Yukiko to compare Naoto's father to Souji in terms of charm.

"And he worked to learn more French – I believe at this point he decided to be more clever with his approach, and he left my mother be while he worked things out." Naoto sighs and uncrosses her legs. "Sorry, I don't think I've ever told a story at this length before."

At that, Yukiko feels a bit of pride. "It's a wonderful story."

Naoto rubs her eyes and looks down the train's corridors. "It's hard to believe it happened at all. These sort of things often only happen in movies."

"They had to come from somewhere."

"Perhaps. There isn't much left, though: after a few short weeks, my mother and her then-fiancé – she got engaged in the time my father was working – they had dinner where my father worked, and – I don't quite know what happens next."

"Hmm?"

Naoto taps her finger against her arm. "I think they changed the story so I'd understand it better, but I've heard different variations of this part: mostly that my mother was just highly impressed with my father's playing and broke her engagement off on the spot."

"Really?"

"It doesn't seem correct," Naoto says, forehead creased. "She wasn't won over by his playing before. I've also heard that my father started a fight with her fiancé, and even that he sang to her right in front of him."

Yukiko tilts her head. "A mystery, huh?"

Naoto laughs bitterly. "Irony, the great revenge. Regardless, from what I gather, I think she was just moved to see him at work – when he wasn't doggedly chasing her around, my father was astoundingly assiduous – and maybe she wanted to know him better.

"And I think…I think she did. Perhaps it-they may have just talked at first – she didn't learn Japanese until after they married, but both were very intelligent and picked up on languages fast – but then…"

As Naoto trails off, she becomes almost anxious to even speak. Yukiko remains silent.

"Well, no one ever said anything, but evidence shows she had an affair of sorts with him – that my mother was seeing my father while still engaged. For a fair time, at that."

"Oh," Yukiko says softly; she finds it a little hard to reconcile that revelation with the rest of the story.

But then, as Naoto put it, maybe the story was changed – even a bit – to fit a more pleasing picture. Maybe the harder times, the bad decisions, the lying and cheating was smoothed over.

Yukiko wonders then if maybe that's what the movies did as well.

Naoto slips off her hat and pushes her hair back. "However it happened, the rest goes fast: she eventually breaks of her engagement, she and my father begin to build a life together, and they get married."

"Without your grandpa's blessing?" Yukiko knows both she and Naoto are both traditional.

"He kept ties cut with my father for a few years. I don't know if my father ever tried to change his mind, but eventually, well…"

Naoto fidgets with her hat in her hands, and looks sheepish, if a bit red in the face.

Yukiko is effectively perplexed. "What happens?"

Naoto doesn't look up. "I happen?"

"You hap…oh! _Baby Naoto-kun_!" Yukiko squeals happily, and brings her hands to her mouth.

Naoto shrinks in on herself, self-conscious. "Yes. Well."

But Yukiko doesn't let it go yet: she pictures a beautiful couple holding up a blanket-wrapped baby, wearing a blue baby cap and curling her fists as she yawns. She gushes over the mental image at Naoto's expense – " _Aww_ , baby Naoto-kun!" – because it's cute to see a Naoto not turned cold by the world, and it's mind-blowing to think that this story of two people she's never met lead to the person telling it.

Maybe, in part, it's her motherly instincts kicking in. And maybe it's an effect of heartbreak withdrawal.

"Amagi-san, _please_ ," Naoto implores, flushed poppy-red. "It's-I-we- everyone's has once been a child, please don't make such a commotion over it."

It takes Yukiko some time, but after she giggles and gushes and peeks at Naoto to compare her to Baby Naoto-kun, she reels herself in, still smiling. "Okay – okay, I'm done."

"Than – "

Yukiko gasps, suddenly realizing that – "Baby Naoto-kun drank from a _baby bottle_ , didn't she?"

Naoto deflates. "I-no- I mean, all babies – "

" _Awww~._ "

"Amagi-san!" Naoto says weakly. "I expect this behavior from Rise-san or even Teddie, but you're supposed to be more composed."

"Sorry – " a giggle escapes Yukiko at the thought of a baby playing with a toy magnifying glass and drinking from a detective-themed bottle " – I'm done. This time for real."

"Well I suppose I am too – "

"Naoto-kun, please? I'm sorry – "

" – not that, it's just – there isn't much left of the story. After I'm born, and grandfather hears – well, babies just have a way of changing people. As you demonstrated," Naoto adds pointedly.

Yukiko smiles back.

"A while after I turn one, grandfather visits, and I suppose he reconciles things with my father and…" Naoto shrugs again. "The rest just happens. They move back to Japan. Mother learns the language. Father teaches her his work. They work together. They raise me." Naoto pauses, then slips her hat on and the brim's shadow covers her eyes. "They die. The end."

And it goes from a happy ending to a sad, unfinished story too quickly for Yukiko to settle with. She tries to gauge the look on Naoto's face, but its back to a blank stare.

For a moment, Yukiko can put away her own grief. When it isn't holding her captive, things are clearer, easier: someone's hurting, trying not to, and leaving them alone just isn't right yet.

Yukiko leans forward. "Naoto-kun," she starts, but she doesn't think she can think of any words Naoto couldn't find a hundred better ways to say.

So she wraps Naoto in a hug – Naoto flinches, stutters, squirms uncomfortably – and leans her chin on her shoulder. Naoto feels even smaller in her arms, and stays still except for her soft breathing. She smells like aftershave.

Naoto whispers something, too softly for Yukiko to hear. Yukiko wonders if she'll ever know what Naoto said.

For a little longer, the only sounds they hear is the train over the tracks. Then, Yukiko pulls away, and takes Naoto's hands with her.

"I'm sorry – I forgot," she says, holding Naoto's hands in hers. They're cold and bony. "I forgot that – didn't think – "

"It's okay," Naoto says simply looking down. "Even I forgot for a time there, somehow." Then, she huffs a bitter laugh. "I had dragged you out here to help you, but instead I've turned it around. I'm sorry."

Yukiko shakes her head, and rolls her thumb over Naoto's knuckles – motherly instincts indeed. "Not at all. I – I needed this too."

Naoto says nothing, and slowly draws her hands away from Yukiko. She holds one in the other, and looks at them like they've been replaced. "Very well."

And there isn't much else to say or do. Yukiko watches Naoto for a moment longer – she looks _sad_ – then turns her attention to the passing landscape outside.

She stares out the windows until the scenery slows down, and stops at a train station. There's an announcement playing, but the sound is muffled and she can't make out what it's saying.

"We've arrived," Naoto says, in a stale tone that Yukiko's used to hearing from her.

"Where?"

Naoto stands, straightens her shirt, and stands – carefully, still wincing just a bit – to the side of the chair, holding her arm out. "I suppose we'll have to find out."

Yukiko stands as well, and feels her bones click. She carries the mostly-empty bento with her, and walks ahead of Naoto to the exit.

"We'll get some drinks," she hears Naoto suggest from behind, "and then you can tell me what's been on your mind."

Yukiko looks back and starts to protest, but Naoto speaks as well. "My stipulation, for sharing my story."

It's fair, Yukiko thinks as she nods. She feels a breeze dance in her hair, and turns to the exit as she steps out into the cold.

She hugs Naoto's coat closer, and looks out to a completely unfamiliar town. Somehow, she feels like a different person now – someone who's still changing, just like the world around her.

* * *

 _A/N: I lied about it being a two-parter. Expect a chapter three, or complain here before that!_


	3. With or Without Us

Chapter Three: With or Without Us

* * *

It comes to her as soon as they sit on the bench overlooking the wheat fields a short walk from the train station: Yukiko, for a good while there, forgot it was Valentine's Day.

Even if she couldn't forget for a second it's a miserable one.

"I never thought I'd be in a place even quieter than Inaba."

Naoto looks over the scenery like it's a painting. "Yes, it's certainly a noticeable change."

But that just makes Yukiko think that anywhere without a 10-story building minimum is a quiet place to Naoto, town or farmland. Yukiko figures the big-city – big- _world_ – life had a way in broadening a person's horizons, and Naoto's mental horizons always seemed boundless.

"Do you think we'll see any cows?" Yukiko asks, knowing Inaba's notoriously high stray cat population.

"Undoubtedly," Naoto replies without tearing away from the landscape.

Maybe they could find one, and even chickens. They could find some trees, and pick some apples, and –

"What are we _doing_?"

Naoto looks at Yukiko. "…Discussing?"

Yukiko shakes her head, then drops it into her hands. "No, we're – I don't know. Running away? We'll have to go back soon, they've probably already noticed we're gone!"

Naoto says nothing.

"I'm sorry. This just – " Yukiko wants to shout _feels so stupid_ , but she's suddenly too tired to bother. She sighs a single, "sad."

"This, or you?"

This time, Yukiko remains silent.

It doesn't keep Naoto quiet. "I've been told that…giving distance to a problem helps you see the bigger picture of it."

Which Yukiko can imagine Naoto hearing often – especially on those nights she would slave away staring at casefiles in the police station until past dawn.

"We could – _discuss_ it, if you'd like."

Except Yukiko mostly doesn't, because she's not sure what else to say besides what she already has. She's tired – she has been since standing against that Inaba fence – and the sadness grips her throat whenever she tries to think of words to fix it.

So Yukiko shakes her head. "No thank you, Naoto-kun."

There isn't a word between them after that for at least a full minute. When Yukiko lifts her head, she sees Naoto staring her down… crossly? Indignantly, Yukiko decides. Naoto is looking at Yukiko as if she stepped on her hat.

"Is there something wrong?" Yukiko can't help but ask.

Naoto looks back at the field and crosses her arms. "No."

It's clipped and stiff, and sounds like boy-Naoto. Yukiko is perplexed at the change is behavior. "Are-are you sure? You sound angry."

"I'm not angry," Naoto drones crisply. "It's just – " she hesitates. "I don't appreciate being played the fool."

"What?"

"You bring me here, away from my work, you make me tell my story, and you refuse to return any of it."

Yukiko pauses, and almost begins to laugh it off – because sometimes Naoto can be _so_ mature and juvenile at the same time – but she turns it into a cough because, honestly, she's in no position to be making the situation any worse.

"Naoto-kun, I'm – I didn't mean it like that." She chooses her words carefully. "When you asked me to come with you, and when I asked about your parents – I didn't mean to _burden_ you."

And in that moment, Yukiko thinks that both their quieter shortcomings – the things overcoming their Shadows should have fixed – are laid out in front of them: Naoto being useful only until someone else decides otherwise, and Yukiko being a hindrance to the people she loves.

It's easy to fall back into old habits – old selves – but then it's hard to change in the first place anyway.

Naoto sighs, loosens up, and levels Yukiko with a softer look. "I simply lost my temper for a moment. My apologies."

Yukiko wants to point out that they heard about Naoto 'simply losing her temper' at a police officer during the case, but decides it'd be a bitter thing to say.

She briefly wonders if she's going to become a hostile person when the sadness ebbs off.

"I don't want this to change me like that," Yukiko finishes aloud, if only at a whisper.

Naoto prompts her with a hum.

"This feeling," Yukiko says louder, and she decides if she can't think of the words without losing them, she'll say them as she goes. " _These_ feelings. The happy ones, the sad ones. The warm ones. It's like, when one doesn't work out, they all mix up and it makes me – makes me a bit crazy, I guess."

"I wouldn't say – "

"We jumped on the back of a train going from the middle of nowhere to the _beginning_ of nowhere."

She doesn't answer that, but Yukiko thinks Naoto's refraining from saying something like _touché_ – like a French person – simply by manner.

"I just – you're right. I wanted distance, I thought it could fix this. But I guess these things aren't that simple."

"What things?" Naoto asks.

It takes Yukiko a while to answer, for many reasons: she doesn't exactly think saying "heartbreak and betrayal" is the most mature, especially in front of Naoto, and she also gets the feeling that hearing herself say it will cement the whole thing in, cement _her_ in.

" _Souji-kun_ things," Yukiko decides to say. She isn't sure if it's enough until Naoto nods slowly.

"I don't pretend to understand 'these things'," Naoto says carefully, "but I know 'these things' – these times – are hard."

It's not helpful to hear, but Yukiko tells herself it's not really wise to expect a few words in such a short time to change much.

"So no advice?" Yukiko asks, because it's the Detective Prince she's talking to: some part of her believes Naoto _always_ has a right answer.

Naoto mouth goes into a flat line frown. "Advice comes from wisdom, which if begotten from experience. The most experience I would have with these things is a criminal incident, in which case I would advise you not to take a violent, vindictive approach in the future."

Yukiko wants to laugh. She plays with her fingers instead. "I'm sure you wouldn't let me get too far."

"I won't be arou-" Naoto stops, then says, "I won't need to, I'm sure."

It comes to Yukiko surprisingly quick, that Naoto had almost said she wouldn't be around for too long, or something like that. Because Naoto has other cases to chase, and a bigger world to defend in small ways.

Part of Yukiko tells herself that there's _real_ suffering and anguish out there in the world, and she shouldn't hang herself up on small things, but the rest of her argues that nothing is ever gained by comparing miseries.

"I don't know," Yukiko says breathily. "I really – I just don't know. Well, I _know_ what's fact and what's right, but I just can't-can't come to terms with it, I guess."

She watches Naoto, who seems to be processing everything over slowly, as if looking for a clue. Naoto finally shakes her head, and she's – she's almost laughing?

"Well, that's the reality of most things," Naoto says with a stale humour. "We know what happens, and some part of us knows what should be done, but it seems harder to reconcile with something that knocks you off your feet. When my parents die– "

Naoto stops like she just noticed the red light, and for a long moment doesn't say anything. Finally, in a quieter voice, "When I came to the conclusion of my parents' affair, I knew it was just something in the past, something that didn't concern me, and it shouldn't be more than a negligible fact.

"But…I couldn't let it go, for a long time. I always held my father to the highest degree of honour and – " she pauses to smile, looking a bit sheepish at her honesty " – and heroism, and my mother was the most upright and gentle of women in my mind. And suddenly, that changes. Or-or I think maybe it never _was_ how I thought it was at all."

Yukiko thinks of herself, thinks of herself and Souji, and some sort of certainty and reliability. She thinks of finding out that she saw things differently than he did, than how they were. It reminds her, oddly enough, of being thrown into the television for the first time: the feeling of the ground disappearing beneath her, of falling until she feels sick to her stomach, of going blindly and naïvely.

She knows Naoto went through that as well, and maybe know she knows they've both gone through it twice.

"And then what?"

Naoto looks down at her hands and fidgets a bit. "And then nothing, I suppose. I stewed away, and it didn't make anything better. I kept myself busy – but I had the advantage of being single-mindedly focused on forwarding my work."

Yukiko smiles, because she can absolutely imagine Naoto pushing away the things that bother her like she pushes aside paperwork.

"I guess I could keep myself focused on the inn. It gets busy this time of year."

Naoto clasps her hands and shakes her head. "I never meant my ways of approaching things as guidance; the opposite, really. You'll drive yourself to the ground before you learn to hate what you do."

"You didn't,"

"I can be… tenacious, I'll admit."

Yukiko smiles, because Naoto really has to be stubborn if she can't admit it easily. Naoto catches her eye, and smiles as well.

The wind passes between them, pushes through the wheat stalks, makes them sway. Yukiko tries to see the end of the farm, but the fields seem to go on forever.

She wonders if anything really does.

"Amagi-san?"

Yukiko snaps back, and knows what's happened by the way Naoto frowns. "Sorry, I didn't hear. It's just – there's so much wheat out there."

"There's so much world," Naoto adds. She stands up, and rubs her arms. "We may as well walk and see more of it."

Some part of Yukiko is disappointed: she thought, somehow, that she'd have an answer, a way to go, before leaving the bench. She makes one last attempt, and it sounds softer than she thought it would.

"What do I _do_?"

Naoto looks warily out ahead, then back at Yukiko. "I don't know – and that's harder for me to admit than it seems. All I know is that between the two of us, you'd know better."

Yukiko believes the opposite, but Naoto doesn't seem to let up.

"You're better equip to assess emotions and people – especially people. You're sensitive, and understanding, and you have a way of…letting loose," Naoto defends, and she never says _I think_ at any point. "Besides, you are the senpai."

Often, Yukiko forgets that; forgets that Naoto's younger, and probably seems otherwise by habit-dying-hard.

Yukiko doesn't know if she'll forget the sadness, but she thinks – she _knows_ , to some degree – that she'll become greater than it.

"Well, I can't tell I'm the senpai when you won't say it," Yukiko says with a laugh that doesn't feel heavy. She stands up beside Naoto. "Shall we?"

Naoto holds a hand out ahead of her. "After you, Senpai."

Yukiko smiles and takes the first steps down a long and winding road. But she has company, and while she doesn't know what's on the path, she knows it's less lonely now.

* * *

"And I had always assumed Satonaka-san's love for steak was exaggerated," Naoto says, shaking her head in a mix of disappointment and amazement.

Yukiko's trying to tell Naoto that the Steak-athon is only the half of it, but she's laughing to hard at just the _thought_ of Chie single-handedly protesting against the closing of Souzai Daigaku for its lack of quality food contribution.

Naoto watches Yukiko with a happy fascination that's a rare and pleasant change of face. Maybe she notices this, because she hides her smile behind a bite of Vegetable-Roast Skewer – a local exclusive featuring fresh harvested foods and an open fire.

"-and-and – hahahaha _haha_ – she uses the – haha – the skewers as _swords – pfftahahaha!_ "

Naoto looks over the skewer, then back at a bearded man standing over a fire. "Good sir, is this wine-soaked?"

"We don't need that sort of fancy flavourin'," he calls back, grinning. "Our food ain't so bad that you gotta drink it outta yer mem'ry!"

Naoto looks back at Yukiko, her eyebrows raised. "He knows my lineage, and he just attacked it."

Yukiko drops her head on the table, because heaven knows she's going to pass out anyway with all the air she's lost laughing.

"It must be the atmosphere," Naoto mutters in a 'deducing' tone. "That's what it was last time."

Yukiko's too busy trying to breathe to ask what Naoto means. She doesn't know if it's the change in air, or if it's the food, or if she's trying just a bit too hard, but for the first time in what feels like so much longer, her throat isn't held tight with worry.

When Yukiko finally reels herself in, she decides to leave the stories to Naoto, knowing – with no offence – that they'd hardly send her into a laughing spree.

She enjoys her non-meat skewer as she listens to Naoto explain how to prepare a mousse dessert – with helpful tips from their server – and _watches_ her, because it isn't very often anyone gets to see Naoto so casual, and Yukiko thinks she won't get the chance again anytime soon.

When they finish, Naoto gets directions back from the man – who Yukiko has half a mind to offer a position at the inn if he didn't seem so content with his simple life – and the trek the path back to the train station, evening upon them.

"It gets darker here faster," Yukiko says as Naoto purchases their tickets.

"Perhaps." She hands Yukiko a paper. "I enjoy evening strolls; it's quiet and calming. It helps me collect my thoughts."

Yukiko puts that down on a mental to-try list, because if today is anything to go by, she'll have a lot to think about for a while coming.

"It's funny, but I think I'm going to miss this place," she muses, watching the scatter few people step off the platform.

"It will stay here," Naoto says, leading them to the train.

Yukiko shrugs, even if Naoto's ahead and can't see it. "But I won't."

"You can come back."

"I will," Yukiko says, and wonders if, by then, she'll be able to look back a better – bigger – person.

They choose a seat, and Yukiko takes the window again, but this time to watch things pass by to remind herself that _things pass by_.

Yukiko looks over her phone – she texted her mom to let her know she was fine, just out with a friend but not in that way mother please – and then back at Naoto. "Today's over, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Yukiko feels sad, undoubtedly. Getting away from it only gave her space to think. It didn't bring her closer to Souji, and it didn't change the way she feels.

But it gave her a place to start, a way to go.

And, just like the day and the train, she'll go on, come rain or even more rain. There's no easy solution, but there's always a future, and Yukiko thinks that thought is what will keep her going for the next while.

"I'm surprised no one said anything about – well, us," Yukiko says, looking at her texts again.

Naoto straightens just a bit, and tugs her hat down. "They – erm – did. The man at the skewer stand had some…recommendations."

Yukiko is both worried and intrigued. "Recommendations?"

"Leave it be," Naoto says quickly, looking away as the train comes loudly to life.

Yukiko wants to talk about it a bit further, maybe ask Naoto why she didn't have plans for today anyway, but she thinks it's a fine line that's a little too far to cross right now.

Maybe when they come back to this beginning of nowhere.

"Thank you, Naoto-kun," Yukiko says instead, and it's one of the most honest things she's said in a long time. "For everything. The coat," which Yukiko still sat snugly in, and isn't sure she could return it easily after their bonding, "the skewers, the stories. Everything."

This time, Yukiko can see Naoto blush and shift self-consciously. "The honour is mine, Amagi-s-senpai. But the idea wasn't entirely, if I'm frank." She frowns, but not unhappily. "Perhaps Hanamura-san has a soft spot for you."

Yukiko giggles, and thinks maybe it's too soon to think of Yosuke and also too soon to write him off. Then she remembers who Yosuke is and can't help but laugh again at the idea.

"I-I don't think so," Yukiko says.

Naoto shrugs. "Well, he sent me after you if only by excuse, and he _is_ close with Seta-san. He may be more than we credit him for."

Yukiko hums in agreement, because she's stating to get the idea that everyone is more than what they seem.

The ride home is peaceful and full of sleepiness, and it fills Yukiko up with a melancholy that's separate from the heartache.

When they finally arrive back, well into the evening, and Naoto walks Yukiko back to the inn but declines staying over, Yukiko takes up the pace and makes her way to her room. When she lays in bed, and feels the thoughts creep up on her while she stares at the ceiling, she curls herself into her blankets.

It's a road that, like any, is walked one step at a time.

* * *

"You're _lying_!" Chie says firmly. "No skewer is better than Steak Skewers!"

Yukiko dusts off her plaid skirt. "Maybe…maybe not."

Chie throws her hands on her hips. "Okay, challenge accepted! Bring me the competition, Steak Skewer's gonna win, landslide victory!"

Yukiko smiles – Chie's enthusiasm will always lift her spirits somehow – and almost suggests they go together to try it someday, but decides that there should be _something_ just she and Naoto share that wasn't a bad habit or experience.

"But still, I didn't see you yesterday," Chie says, fixing her shoe on. "Anything special?"

Yukiko knows the answer is yes, but she doesn't want to bring back all of it again – even if the days to come will do that anyway. "Just walking around, I guess."

"You should join me on my morning jogs. They're great for the body _and_ soul."

Chie's suggested it before, and Yukiko's usually too busy to consider it.

But Yukiko thinks it's a good idea to break the routine once in a while. "You know? I think I will, every once in a while."

Chie pumps her fist up in victory, but the cheer is short-lived when they reach their classroom. Yosuke is leaning on his desk and chatting the morning sun away with Souji.

Yukiko doesn't hear what Chie says as they walk inside, even if Yukiko feels like she's watching her normal day like a stranger on the outside.

Souji smiles, as usual. It still warms Yukiko up, even if it brings a pang of hurt.

"Morning," he says, like normal. And it's normal, Yukiko reminds herself. Different, and normal. Changing, and normal.

"Good morning," she replies in kind, back in her own shoes.

The four go one talking for a few minutes longer before their teacher comes in and they file in their seats.

Before Yukiko settles in, Yosuke passes her and says, "Hey, by the way, did you give Naoto her chocolate?"

"I've got it today," Yukiko says, smiling. She isn't sure if she'll get the chance to give it, because Naoto is eternally elusive, but she has a good feeling about it.

She just hopes the quality of the inn's chocolate is good enough to put past the fact that it was meant for someone else.

"Well, she's probably loaded after yesterday, so I can take it off your hands," Yosuke says, grinning.

Yukiko shrugs, and doesn't really plan it when she says, "Maybe."

Yosuke looks surprised for a minute, then snaps back into grinning even wider before jumping into his seat.

Class starts then, on time, as usual. And while Yukiko tries to focus, her attention is pulled away by Souji, by sadness, by pushing past all of it.

Yukiko wonders – and she wonders a lot now, though it doesn't feel entirely like a bad thing – how long she'll feel this way. She wonders what moving on will come with, and what will come ahead. She wonders if she'll one day have the sort of whirlwind escapade Naoto would scold even if it reminds her of her own parents.

Sitting at her desk, in her hometown, where everything is as normal and the future never stops coming even when it feels like it's taking forever, she wonders.

Yukiko wonders, and continues on with the world around her.

* * *

 _A/N: That went way longer than expected. It was at first just a song reference - originally titled How Soon Is Now before I decided to go with Well I Wonder, because - looking at the chapter titles, it now reads: Well I wonder, but I'll never know, and that's the way life goes – with or without us._

 _Anyway, it's at an end now, and I'd love to hear what you think of it._


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